


rise a succubus

by Anonymous



Series: together as one [1]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Play, Anal Sex, BDSM, F/M, Femdom, Kink Negotiation, Pegging, Praise Kink, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22110586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: cardinal gets dommed by a sister of sin. that's it. that's all that happens.
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: together as one [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663930
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> no gods. no masters. no betas.

The thing was it took you both a _long_ time to get here. You, you always knew who you were and what you wanted. Even as a girl, boys seemed to sniff you out; falling over themselves to impress you or steering clear of your presence with almost nothing in between. 

They were so easy to find when you got older, young men in the clergy with slim wrists, biting their nails as they nervously asked if you could provide what they wanted. There were other women like you in the abbey and they also took their fill of these men. So many eager brothers limping out of a sister’s dorm in the early brightness of dawn. So many brothers nursing tender jaws at dinner. So many.

You, you were picky. Dominance got you off, yes, but it was so much more than that. A doe-eyed brother who wanted slapped around wasn’t enough for you. There had to be more to it than that. Very few men made it to your bed; often ignoring you after two or three sessions that ended more in chatting and friendship than sex and submission. 

That was okay. 

You had one brother who was your favorite. He was dark eyed and fit; athletic to the point of obsession and he liked nothing more than to place his head in your lap after a long day and let you stroke his skin until he fell asleep against you. It took months to escalate to sex and you were quite pleased to tie him, wrists and ankles, to the posts on your bed before climbing on top of him and not stopping until he was sobbing with pleasure. At your request, he would play with himself, stopping and starting at a wordless glance from you. He once went seven weeks without release and almost wept into your skirt when you finally granted it. He was perfect.

But then he accepted a transfer and your bed was cooling down. A brother or two had tried to turn the tide against you, grabbing your wrists roughly and trying to wrestle you into your sheets. That wouldn’t do. 

But he would do. 

He would do nicely. 

He was new, a transfer, and you and the rest of the abbey yearned to get a glance of this new stranger in power. A Cardinal. You only saw flashes of a red cassock as he vanished into Sister’s office for hours on end. Your friends only saw flashes of his dark eyes in libraries and at meals. 

You finally saw him when he nearly crashed into you coming out of an office six months after his arrival. You jumped and laughed as you avoided each other and he immediately cast his eyes down at your shoes, despite his status. 

“I am very sorry, Sister,” he said earnestly, clasping his hands behind his back. His cassock was black this time and his face was blossoming red, ears nearly scarlet. “Forgive me if I startled you.”

You chuckled, placing your hand on his shoulder. “You’re fine! I apologize for almost crashing into you!”

He looked at you and smiled. HIs eyes were odd, as was custom for the clergy of a certain rank, but they were warm and his smile was genuine. 

You liked him. He was cute. 

He made the first move, which didn’t surprise you. Two weeks after you almost crashed into each other, a feminine ghoul summoned you after dinner. She was one of your favorites; she came with the Cardinal and had thick grey-green curls that frequently escaped from under her mask. Her teeth were ghastly white and she often stuck a black tongue against them when she smiled or laughed. 

“Hey Sophia,” she said casually, leaning against the doorframe. “The Cardinal asked for you.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, pushing herself off the doorframe to lead you his way. “He just said go get that redheaded one that works in accounting because he had some questions about budget limitations for the next set of rituals.”

You bit your tongue before you told her that your supervisor, Sister Erin, was the one who handled ritual and tour finances but obviously the Cardinal knew that. He didn’t ask for the brunette from accounting; he asked for you specifically. 

The ghoul pointed you towards his office before heading towards the doors that lead to the gardens. “I think you can find it from here,” she teased. “I got a date out near the mausoleums.”

“Oh?” you raised a playful eyebrow.

“She’s an _art teacher,_ ” the ghoul elaborated. “I’m in love already!”

You saw the art teacher in your mind’s eye (tall, willowy, simple braid) and knew immediately she could compliment the ghoul nicely. 

“Safety first,” you lightly scolded as the ghoul stuck her blackened tongue out at you in jest. 

You waited until her figure was out of sight before knocking on the Cardinal’s office door. It opened almost immediately, as if he was waiting for you to knock.

“Sister,” he said hurriedly, flushed with bright eyes.

“Cardinal,” you said politely, bowing slightly. Regardless of his intentions, he was still your superior and respect was due. He smiled awkwardly at that but let you in the office regardless. 

The office was tidy, smoldering incense giving away the only indication it was being occupied. You hung your sweater on a coat rack behind his desk before sitting across from it. 

“You wanted to talk budget,” you said playfully, folding your hands on the desk in front of you. 

He chuckled stiffly as he sat down, opening and closing his mouth a few times. 

“I know,” you said for him. “Shall we talk business?”

“I spoke to a brother before my transfer,” he started, “and he told me about you.”

“Go on.”

“He said you had…talents.”

“I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue.”

The Cardinal swallowed thickly around that thought before clearing his throat. “I…”

“Don’t know where to begin?” you offered.

He nodded stiffly. “I don’t even know what I…”

“I can help. But not tonight.”

You watched his shoulders visibly fall at that; like a child being denied a promised adventure. 

“Simply for your benefit,” you explained. “I want you to think on what you want before we commit to anything.” You stood and sat on the edge of his desk. “I want you to write down 10 things you want from me. Because once you do that, Cardinal, there will be no other Sisters, do you understand?”

His eyes went wide, glassy, before he nodded quickly. 

“Good boy. I will see you in a week.”


	2. Chapter 2

You made him wait 10 days, just to watch him squirm. He was tense, fidgety, when you let yourself into his office those 10 days later. His hands shook as he dug through his desk for the paper you asked for.

“I am so sorry—”

Enough.

“Hey,” you said softly, catching a hand in yours. “I’m in no rush, Cardinal. Let’s sit down first, yeah?”

He swallowed, a comical gulp, before nodding and leading you through a small door at the back of his office. It opened into a comfortable studio (living area, kitchenette, curtains drawn around a bed) that you assumed was his. You liked it. You could get used to it. He gestured to a shabby couch, coughing out an “after you” as you made yourself comfortable. You sat yourself like a queen on it and his eyes darted between the sagging cushion next to you or the space at your feet. 

“Next to me, if you don’t mind.”

Some of the tension eased off of him as he sat himself next to you. “I remembered where my paper is,” he mumbled. 

“Go get it,” you smiled. “I’ll be right here.”

You heard him rummage around in a bureau behind you and to the right before letting out a triumphant little noise. The couch sagged further as he sat back down enthusiastically and handed you a folded piece of paper. 

“Good boy,” you purred, patting your thigh. Without a word, the Cardinal slid from the couch to the floor, placing his head against your thigh as he said at your feet. You stroked his hair as you read what he wanted from you. It was a very basic list; his needs were nothing you couldn’t meet and he didn’t seem to place sexual pleasure high on his list. Good. You folded the paper up and stuck it in your blouse, deep in your bra.

“What do you think, Cardinal?”

He looked up at you through thick lashes but said nothing. He licked his lips.

“Good idea,” you smiled.

You stayed like that for hours, him at your feet with his head on your lap. Occasionally he’d talk about his worries at the church— Sister Imperator had recently scolded him heavily in a meeting and he wasn’t sure if he should ask for a transfer in case she decided to have him reassigned. He confessed he didn’t care much for Brother Brandon’s cooking, despite the brother being a former chef, highly decorated, before devoting himself to the church. He admitted to an embarrassing Netflix queue full of questionable reality television. 

You told him how you came to the church (tragedy, 14, guardianship to an aunt who was a Sister before she passed) and your own adventures in the clergy. You told him how much you liked his ghoul and he agreed she was delightful. Eventually the conversation slowed and you both enjoyed the silence. A deep inhale brought you back to the now and you realized the Cardinal was dozing against you. 

“Hey,” you said lightly as he jumped awake. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

He nodded sleepily, stifling a cracking yawn into the back of his hand. You helped him stand, his knees were probably stiff; he was not a young man anymore, and led him to his bed. It was simple, not much nicer than yours, but he sat on it heavily, weighted with exhaustion.

“Will you join me?” He brought your knuckles to his lips and kissed them wetly. 

“Not tonight,” you said, bending to kiss his forehead. “But soon.”

“Soon” didn’t come fast enough. After a few more nights of him kneeling before you, letting you card your sharp nails through his thick hair. The first press of his lips against yours was soft, almost comically unsure; as if you were a girl again. But then he was ravenous, tugging at your collar like a possessed man, biting against your lips.

“Hey. Hey!”

That pulled him out of his possession and he had the audacity to flush red in shame. 

“What’s the word we agreed on?” You pressed lightly.

“‘Rats’.” He mumbled, looking at the ground. 

“And what else did we agree on?”

“No touching the mistress.”

“And what are you doing right now, Cardinal?”

He looked at his hand, gripped on your upper arm.

“Touching you,” he said sheepishly, pulled his hands into his lap. 

“Good boy,” you praised, watching his eyes go glassy at your words. “You like that, don’t you?”

Silence. 

“Answer me!” Your voice was shriller than you anticipated and the Cardinal jumped at your words.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes…?”

“Yes, Sister. I-I-I like it when you t-tell me I’m a good boy.”

You smiled, a predatory curl of the lip. _That_ is what you wanted. “Tell me what else you like, Cardinal. Don’t be shy.”

“I-I want you to f-f-fuck me,” he stuttered, ears burning red. “Tie me up. _Use_ me.”

You stood up, walking confidently to his bed. “Cardinal,” you said sweetly, “please bring me the bag I brought with me tonight.”

He scrambled to his feet, getting halfway to his bed before realizing he forgot your bag and dashing back to the couch to fetch it.

What a _good_ boy.

“Sit,” you gestured vaguely as you began to root through the bad for what you wanted. He perched himself awkwardly on the bed, eyeing the items you pulled out of the bag. 

“Now,” you said triumphantly as you set the empty bag down. “Pick what you would like to use tonight.”

There was no hesitation from the Cardinal. He eschewed the handcuffs, the nipple clamps, the vibrating wand, to immediately point at the harness on your left.

“That,” he said hoarsely. “I want that.” 


	3. Chapter 3

“Strip,” you commanded, putting the unwanted items back in your bag. His haste was almost humorous, but you liked the body that was revealed as he stripped for you. He was broad, sturdy, in a way your previous lovers hadn’t been. He was hairy but your mouth still watered at the sight of him. You had to be careful; you could lose yourself in his body if you weren’t careful. 

“D-do you like?” he asked nervously.

“Very much,” you smiled earnestly.

He flushed at that and you watched the pinkness blossom down his neck and onto the upper planes of his chest. Warmth flooded between your thighs and you had to have him.

“H-how do you want to do this?” It was your turn to stammer.

“However you want, _Sister_ ,” he teased, reminding you of your role. 

“Hands and knees,” you said simply. The flush turned from rosy pink to a deep crimson. His cock, fat and thick between muscular thighs, twitched at your words. 

“Do you need help?” he asked, gesturing to the neglected harness.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” you slid back into your role easily. 

“N-no, Sister,” he obeyed, sliding onto his stomach on the bed. 

The harness was chilled as you slid into it and you hummed lightly as you tightened it. From your bag, you picked a medium sized dildo. Black, to match his bedding. 

“Wait,” you said, tapping his thigh lightly, “I want to watch you do this part.”

He rolled obediently as you handed him the discrete bottle of lube. 

“Oh yes,” he moaned, drizzling the liquid on his fingers. He gasped as his immediately slid two fingers into himself, thighs clenching under your gaze. 

“Don’t,” you scolded as he reached for his reddened cock, fat and leaking. “That’s for me.”

“Yes Sister,” he groaned, adding another finger. 

“Oh Cardinal,” you sighed, slipping your fingers under the harness to the wetness underneath. “You should see yourself right now.”

He gasped, thighs flexing as he opened himself.

“Are you r-ready for me?” you asked, the arousal in your voice betraying you.

“Please,” he moaned, rolling onto his hands and knees. “ _Please_ Sister.”

You took the lube and slicked up the dildo before pressing it into his greedy body.

“You filthy boy,” you scolded playfully as you inched into him. “Do you let all the Sisters fuck you?”

“N-no!” he whined as you pressed harder against him. 

“You take my cock so well,” you cooed, “that perhaps you’ve been fucking some of the Brothers.”

He moaned unintelligibly something that was either protest or your name; you didn’t much care. Drool dripped from the corner of his mouth into the pillow he was pressed into. 

The first few thrusts were awkward as you found your rhythm against him. It didn’t take long for him to cry out, pressing his ass against your hips.

“Oh, you like that?” you teased, thrusting harder. “Tell me.”

“I l-love it!” he gasped, wriggling his ass against you. “Please…”

“Good boy,” you praised, gripping his hair as leverage as your hips worked against him. “Maybe I’ll let you come.”

“Please!” he begged. “Please, Sister. I’ve been so good for you.”

“You could be better.”

He whined, high and needy.

“Need it,” you babbled, feeling the end of the dildo rub against your clit where you needed it. “N-next time, I’m going to rub my pussy all over your face.”

“Please!”

“Gonna plug you up,” you promised, feeling your orgasm build deep in your pussy. “Keep you ready for me.”

“Please. Please touch me. Please. Please. I wanna—”

“What, Cardinal?” you played. “Do you want to come?”

He nodded wildly.

“If you’re a good boy,” you promised, reaching under his body to wrap your fingers around his dripping cock, “I’ll let you come on my chest. Would you like that?”

At the contact of your skin against where he needed you, he sobbed as he came heavily against his blankets, thrusting his ass against yours wildly. The additional friction caused your own orgasm to crash into you; you called out his name as you thrust repeatedly into his pliant body. He twitched with the aftershocks but said nothing. 

You collapsed against his back, laughing lightly into the damp skin you found. He joined you and you fell into his bed in a mess of limbs and laughter. He hissed as you pulled the dildo out of him, but you allowed him to help you with the clasps of the harness.

“How—”

“Lovely,” you supplied, not letting him finish his question. “When my thighs stop twitching, we’re doing that again.”

He ran his hand over the quivering muscles. “You know,” he began. He flushed heavily at his own thoughts.

“You could always ride my face next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am very drunk

**Author's Note:**

> you're welcome.


End file.
